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At this point the previous year, I ended up filming a television show alongside three vocalists. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.

The Response by the Trio

At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the waiting area took two actions. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds which naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the director would shout to everyone to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.

Dealing With Stuffy Noses

Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.

The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy

So no, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I focused carefully together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months based on her explanation and, extra steps were needed during festivities. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I like it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.

My Experience

I followed suit. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, reacquired, found, etc. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.